


Learning

by Guilt



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guilt/pseuds/Guilt
Summary: Sometimes the little victories are everything.





	

"I can bloody feel you thinking, Sherlock, we both know you arent one for tact, just ask already"

"I was under the impression that this would be a bad time to be tactless. I am trying, you know." Sherlock replies, but his curiosity still burns craters in Jim's skin.

The two lie entangled, illuminated only by moonlight streaming through the curtains dancing on the open window. The soft light only serves to throw the many scars on Jim's lithe body into harsh, shining contrast with the rest of the milky smoothness of his skin.

"It's the first time I've seen you naked, I would prefer it wasn't the last. I maintain my lack of pestering." His gaze was still laser focused on one scar in particular, shaped in a crescent pattern on the farthest point of Jim's left clavicle. Sherlock looks moderately affronted when Jim looks down at where Sherlock is pillowed on his chest with a look of condescending amusement. Sherlock cant help himself.

"I thought you didnt like getting your hands dirty"

"Who said these are work related?"

A long pause stretches between them, and snaps with Sherlock's sudden intake of breath. 

"Is that one from a corkscrew?" Sherlock asks, pointing to a strange, looping series of marks along Jim's hipbone.

"Yes"

"Fascinating," a slight pause. "I've seen the wound, but never the scar. I don't suppose you've had any other particularly unique ones?"

Moriarty grins softly at him, and raises his left arm, revealing a wavy, circular marking on the inside of his bicep. 

"Bottle cap."

Sherlock weighs the potential consequences of asking how, and decides against it.

Moriarty dislodges Sherlock as he shifts again, onto his side to expose his back, and a long lash of scar tissue running from the base of his spine to the top of his hipbone in a near perfectly straight line.

"Violin string"

"Dangerous and beautiful"

Moriarty scowls playfully at Sherlock, "cheesy, you are."

Something catches Sherlock's eye as Jim returns to lying flat on his back. 

"What is that one?"

Jim looks down to where Sherlock is pointing, and a sly smile flickers on his lips and his eyes slide back up to lock with Sherlock's.

"Nipple ring." He says, serious as a heart attack, daring Sherlock to laugh.

Sherlock takes the dare, stifling giggles between Jim's shoulder and the pillow that cradles it.

"For someone so beautifully unique, you can be quite the stereotype."

Jim giggles and makes a noncommittal noise, waving his arm and letting his wrist flop in an intentionally flamboyant manner. 

"Part of my charm"

Sherlock hums in agreement, then reaches out to catch the wrist with slender fingers. 

"What about these?"

"Those are boring," Jim says, extracting his arm from Sherlocks firm hands, "look at this one."

He lifts one leg up and lets it loll to the side, exposing a creamy inner thigh and a thick scar scarce inches from the femoral artery.

"This one is from the job. Quite early on. Made a grievous miscalculation, unfortunately. Very nearly died. I went out and got Seb almost right away after that"

"What sort of miscalculation?"

"Misjudged shrapnel levels. Almost killed because I thought it would be fun to watch my handiwork in action. Snipers and long distance business would have prevented that slip up."

"Understandable though, you do create some beautiful messes."

Jim's chocolate eyes melted with the heat those words put behind them.

"Sherlock." Jim croons, "I think Im done showing you my scars."

"Oh? Have I done-"

"You should do a bit of exploring. Find them. See if you can kiss them better," Jim's lazy grin turns predatory, he gestures to the scar on his thigh, "start here, see where it leads you."

Sherlock quickly understands his meaning, and is all too happy to oblige. Jim's fingers catch in his curls and he slides his way down the mattress.


End file.
